Page 85 of Watercolor Skulls

“Morning.” She lays her hands on my chest, resting her chin on them.

“Want to go for breakfast and then do a little site seeing?”

Her smile falters and she sits up. “Yeah, sure.” She shrugs her shoulders as her eyes roam over the newspaper I left lying out on the bedside table.

I ignore her reluctance. “I’ll go see if I can find you something to wear. One of the local wives might have something.” I slip my legs into my jeans.

She nods, heading into the bathroom. The door clicks quietly behind her. I know she doesn’t want to do this but it’s time.

Shoving my keys and billfold into my pocket, I eye the journals on the table. I want to pull the cover back and peek inside, but the angel is on my shoulder whispering feverishly,“Show her she can trust you, you big dumb fuck. Don’t even think about it.”

The little bitch on my shoulder is right. Lily will show me when she’s ready.

I open the door almost tripping over a paper bag left on our doorstep. Scanning the parking lot, I notice Raffe sitting under a tree. He salutes me. I grab the bag and peer inside. Clothes. One step ahead of me. I shake my head and wave to him.

He stands and walks towards me, stopping at the bottom of the steps. “I called the coroner’s office. Jenny’s parents faxed her dental records.” He drops his eyes to the ground, tapping his hand on the railing a few times. Eventually he reigns in his emotions, his focus back on me. “I’m meeting him at four this afternoon, if she wants to go along.”

“I’ll tell her.”

“Be easy on her, Dan.”

“I am.”

“Are you though?”

“I needed her to know she can’t…” a wave of nausea washes over me as I picture her sitting on that ledge, her eyes glazed over by the drugs her father gave her. How easily she could have fell.

“Dan, for what this is worth I think yesterday was her putting herself out of their reach in the only way she knew how. She doesn’t want to leave you.” His gaze shifts behind me.

Hands slide around my mid-section. Her face presses against my bare back, her cheek wet with tears. I grab her hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I never want to leave you,” she whispers against my skin.

I turn, forgetting all about Raffe. She is standing behind me in a towel, freshly showered, and oh so beautiful. Placing the bag in her hands, I lean down and kiss the top of her head.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” she says, self-consciously running her free hand over her hair.

Pushing her hand away, I run my own down the length of it. I grab a strand, reveling in the softness. “I lost my mind when JD called me, but that was not your fault.”

She watches my fingers lovingly caress the lock of hair. “That’s not what I mean.”

“I know. Will you help me understand?”

Lily sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, nibbling on it for a brief moment. “Okay.”

We ride down to the bay, stopping at a little bagel shop for breakfast.

As we walk towards the bridge she slows. Logically or not, I grip her hand tighter. My fear of her running and plunging herself over the edge is increasing the closer we get. She stops. Her eyes sweep the entire area.

I’ve decided to let her lead from this point forward. There is nothing worse than being drug toward your greatest fears. Her father has done plenty of that. I will not.

“When I was sixteen my dad came to my room and told me that there was a young woman who would be staying with us.” Lily stares at her feet. “She was the first one he acknowledged.”

She takes a few steps before stopping again. Her eyes raise as she looks down the length of the bridge. “I waited six days for her to leave that room.” She turns to face me now. “When she did she walked out of the house and this is where she came.”

She takes a deep breath and pulls us forward a few more steps. Her fingers tremble in mine as she continues to walk slowly.

“I remember being struck by her beauty. A fresh face just like on the cover of a magazine. An All-American girl. When she swung her leg over the railing I froze. I didn’t understand what she was doing.” Lily stops now and stares at a section of the bridge, ghosts of the past reflect in the pools of her eyes.

Bravely she walks us forward, hand in hand. Then she stops abruptly and turns to face the water. We both stare at the spectacular view.

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